


hic sunt dracones

by viveriveniversumvivusvici55



Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: (at first), Alternate Universe - Dragons, Although not in the way that one would think, Asexual Character, F/M, Gen, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mating Rituals, Merchant of Venice, Seduction through Poetry, Trans Male Character, Wooing a Man with Coffee, Yes this is based on the penguin pebble thing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-22
Updated: 2020-04-29
Packaged: 2020-12-28 11:48:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21136214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/viveriveniversumvivusvici55/pseuds/viveriveniversumvivusvici55
Summary: When you give a man a fish, you feed him for a day. When you teach a man to fish, you feed him for a lifetime. When a dragon gives you a pebble, you take it, go home, and scream into your pillow in a blind panic.Stardew Valley, the dragon sanctuary, and the clueless humans who move there just before mating season.(In which the author loves fantasy and this farming game.)





	1. Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> Or the dragon AU that no one asked for but I’m giving you anyway. I have a boatload of OCs that I have wanted to put into Stardew Valley for some time, so they each get a chapter, apart from this opening one.

The view out of the bus is beautiful. The clouds have parted to reveal a beautiful blue spring sky, the sun shining bright and birds flying around, and there is hardly a car in sight to disrupt it. The human reclines in the bus seat, one arm resting on the window frame while the other looks over the letter from their grandfather once again. They know it by memory now, but they can't help scanning it over and over again, trying to find a clue as to what Stardew Valley would be like.

Before stepping on the bus, they had known nothing about what was coming - it was a small town, like any other they had been to, right?

Then the ticket master had given them this strange look when they bought the ticket. “You’re going to Stardew Valley? Be careful. Here there be dragons.”

They had frozen on the spot. “Figuratively?”

The man had just smirked at them and passed the ticket over. “You decide. Have fun.”

This wasn’t much of a problem. Dragons were not an uncommon sight - when magic had filled the world, creatures had come with it. They had seen far stranger in their short life. But if the town was full of dragons?

Well, that was a skillset they lacked.

The town is getting closer and closer, and they put down the letter to dig out their phone. They wedge sideways in the seat, taking up all of the small space given to them, knees against the back of the seat before them, and starts typing into the browser.

_Living with dragons. _

Most of the information given is information for dating a dragon (and quite a bit of it is sex related information, which makes them flush a little and bookmark it for future reference), but eventually they find a set of guidelines for living in a town full of them. It even seems to have been made in connection with Stardew Valley, which is honestly the perfect source. They tap it open and start reading.

_For the most part, living in a town of dragons is the same as living in a town full of humans. There are, however, a few notable differences. Firstly, there are specific seasons to keep in mind. There is a hoarding season in the winter, where most dragons will keep to themselves, scavenging for any shiny objects they can find and bundling in nests in their homes. There is a guide for this linked below. There is also a mating season beginning midsummer, wherein a dragon will present a prospective mate with an item from their hoard, usually a gem or something of a similar size and shine, and mating will begin. Humans may wish to make it clear well in advance if they are interested in mates, or avoid going into town in the first few days of the season. A sign to be aware of will be a smell of spices as hormones kick in. _

_Secondly, dragons are prone to great displays of emotion. Mood swings are particularly prominent, and every emotion is felt to the full extent that it can be. A dragon's love and joy are wondrous, but if you make a dragon angry, be warned. _

_Thirdly, dragons can appear in human form. The way to tell if a humanoid is a dragon is to look by the temples, the shoulders, cheekbones, and along other bony ridges. There will be scales of varying colours, the size depending on the age and shape of the dragon. There is also the eyes - dragons in human form may have a pupil irregularity, either serpentine eyes, goat eyes, or double pupils. As such, it is very difficult to tell if someone is a dragon from behind. Mind your manners, just in case. _

_Fourth, dragons take promises as oaths. Do not renege a promise lightheartedly - it will be a great slight. _

_Fifth, finally, and most importantly: dragons are people, regardless of the form they take. Treat them with respect and kindness as you would any other person._

...alright. They can work with that. The last point was a bit sad, however. They knew that dragons had been discriminated against in the past - probably part of why Stardew Valley was established - but it was another to see the visible reminder that dragons had personhood. They settle to read more as the bus keeps chugging along. Then, some movement catches their eye and they turn to look out the window. Up in the sky, high above the trees, they can see a serpentine figure cut through the clouds – twining and twisting, gold and orange scales shining. Their eyes go wide with wonder, jaw dropping for a moment, phone forgotten in their lap. Then another, more green and gold, comes up as well, and the two dance together. The human stares in amazement until the bus moves out of view, moving along at a steady pace to Stardew Valley.

Here there be dragons _indeed._


	2. Clarice/Shane

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarice reads everything she can about dragons, including inequality and discrimination cases. 
> 
> Shane is, surprisingly, extremely passionate about these things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was very heavily inspired by The Merchant of Venice.

Clarice spends the entirety of the bus ride reading about dragons. She knows a bit beforehand, of course, but she wants to combat any assumption that she might have ahead of time. Not to mention that last line of the suggestions: dragons are people too. Now she has to know why that is even up for debate. She’s heard rumblings in the city about protests and rights initiatives, and she definitely knew a dragon or two at Joja who had to fight to get mating season time off, but she knows that she’s very out of touch.

As she reads, she realizes, to her shame, that she is so out of touch that she’s missed one of the largest rights campaigns in the last fifty years. There has always been a degree of inequality between humans and dragons - not quite segregation, but absolutely discrimination and oppression. Dragons have fought for greater legal standing, for equal representation, for no racial violence and discrimination; and they have won in case by case bases and sweeping laws. There is by no means an equal playing field now, but there is less of a gap. However, that has absolutely brewed some resentment, and Clarice imagines that she will be watched very closely when she arrives. Not just because of the new person in a small town, but the new human.

She reads all the way up to the driver’s announcement of “Stardew Valley!”. Shoving her phone away, she grabs her backpack and swings it over her shoulder. It is inordinately heavy - she put most of her life into it - but it doesn’t change her stride. She steps out carefully from the bus with a nod of acknowledgment to the driver and reaches in to haul out her boxes of books and housewares.

There are two people waiting for her - the mayor, Lewis, and the carpenter, Robin. They introduce themselves and help to carry her belongings away. It isn’t the lightest packing, but Clarice did not go anywhere without her books. She had tried to pack as light as she could, and obviously, the mayor appreciates it. “When we heard a city girl was coming,” he says as they walk down the road to the farm, “we weren’t quite sure what you were going to be like. Fritz talked about you, of course, but he was focused mostly on your marks and your love of cows.”

The smallest of smiles creases Clarice’s face. “That sounds about right. Opa made sure the cows and I were on very good terms. But no, the most I have are books.”

Robin shifts one of the larger boxes in her arms. “Remind me to get started on another bookshelf for you. I don’t think you’re going to have enough room.”

“There is a library in town, so if there’s something you don’t have, we might be able to bring it in for you,” Lewis adds.

“Thank you,” she says softly. “And if anyone likes, they can come borrow my books, as long as they keep them in good condition.”

They step onto the farmland shortly after, and while Clarice is gawking at the overgrown land ( _ why didn’t I pack a chainsaw _ ), she notices a large shadow swooping over the land. She looks up to see a large dragon circling on a hot spring wind. Its scales are a dark blue with faint notes of green, and what little detail she can see offers the shape of a traditional European dragon. It looks like the cover of one of her favourite books as a chlid. Her mouth drops open in wonder, and the box only just stays in her fingers.

“Oh, Shane’s out with Jas,” Robin smiles, setting her box down, and sure enough, a smaller dragon flits around the larger one. Its colours are pink and black, almost iridescent in the sunlight, and the two fly around each other in a way that reminds Clarice deeply of a child bouncing around their parent. “It’s good to see them out.”

Mayor Lewis cuts a quick look to Clarice, whose fingers are itching for a sketchbook to try and bring this scene to life, and she very reluctantly looks away to meet his eyes. The man looks worried, and Clarice quietly beats him to the punch. “I did a lot of reading before I came here. I still have questions, especially if there are any crops I shouldn’t grow, but you will have no problems from me.”

Lewis wilts a bit in relief. “I am glad to hear it. No, most crops are okay. As long as you’re not growing dragonsbane or anything of that poisonous nature, you will be okay.”

Clarice nods, and then they set into the tour. Clarice’s hands are aching, already showing early calluses across her palms, and the sun is wearing her down. Still, there is occasionally a shadow sweeping across her, and in the brief shade, she breathes.

_ A new start, and new people to meet. _

* * *

Clarice eventually makes it to the Stardrop Saloon on Friday. She doesn’t like large groups and this kind of socializing, but she knows it’s better to bite the bullet in a small town. She swallows, bracing herself, and makes her way inside.

Lewis is, of course, the first one to greet her. “Hello, Clarice. Welcome!”

Clarice buys a glass of salmonberry juice cut with seltzer, and settles at the bar. She says hello to pretty much everyone - she doesn’t shake any hands, as hers are bandaged to hell and back, but she does nod at a few people and offer gentle greetings. By the end of it, there’s only one person in the tavern that she hasn’t yet met, and that’s the dragon at the end of the bar. Even if she didn’t see the scales, she would jokingly guess he was a dragon for his rumbling temper. The man is stonier than she is, staring into his tankard like it will give him the answers to all of life’s mysteries, and puts back glass after glass while she’s there. 

Gus notices her watching and says gently, “That’s Shane. Don’t mind him - he’s like that with everyone.”

She shrugs. She gets that. “I’ll buy his next glass.”

Shane looks puzzled when Gus refills the tankard, but after a quick explanation from Gus that sounds like “the new farmer, human girl, old man Fritz’s granddaughter, be nice to her dammit”, Shane’s eyes soon settle on her. As they make contact, Clarice feels a shiver run up her spine. His scales creep up into his hair, black and blue with a slight sheen to them, but they are also dirty and unkempt. His eyes are a dark purple, almost black, and his slitted pupils are hard to see. It feels like she’s staring into an abyss. 

...it feels a little like she’s looking at herself pre-therapy.

She raises her glass slightly to him, not making a single movement towards the man other than that, and eventually, he does the same.

This is the beginning of a beautiful antisocial friendship.

* * *

“Oh no, Shane’s angry drunk again,” Leah mutters.

Clarice is sitting with the artist this time, comparing drawings and talking quietly about their respective styles. Clarice looks up from her coffee and frowns, turning around to look at her neighbour. He looks much the same, but his brow has creased even further. His fingers are knotted tightly around his tankard, and Clarice has a feeling that he is ready to square up at a minute’s notice.

“Why is that bad?” Clarice asks gently. 

“You know that uncle at Thanksgiving that gets drunk and rants about politics for an hour, no matter how much you try to get him to calm down?”

Clarice nods.

“That’s Shane whenever hate crimes come over the news,” Leah says softly. “I believe his brother and sister-in-law were killed in one, and Shane had to take in Jas. It’s a pretty sore spot with all of us, but especially him.”

No wonder. Clarice heads up to the bar and proceeds to buy Shane’s next drink. Normally, she doesn’t encourage this sort of thing, but she’s gotten to know Shane a bit better with time, and she has a very distinct feeling that Shane would not welcome a lecture on drinking. 

Shane’s eyes snap to her as soon as he gets the free drink and he beckons her over, gesture sloppy. Taking her coffee, Clarice makes her way over, sitting near him.

“You hear?” He growls. His breath smells like beer, but that sound, that near snarl, makes the hair on the back of her neck stand up. It’s both attractive and terrifying. 

She nods. She’d heard it on the radio. A dragon couple were beaten on their way home. The woman was put in urgent care, and the doctors were unsure if she would make it. “Sorry isn’t the right word,” she says gently, “but I don’t know any others.”

He snarls. “I don’t want your pity.”

“It’s not pity,” she says softly. “It’s ‘I’m here and I am a good listener’.”

Shane frowns at her and laughs bitterly. “You really don’t want to do that.”

“I do. Let me be the judge.”

He takes a long pull from his beer and slams the tankard on the bar. “You know what they shouted at that couple as they beat them? Not freaks, not monsters. No, we’ve ‘gotten better than that’,” he makes air quotes. “They said ‘go back home’. This is our home as much as any. We have lived here for centuries, and they said to go back home.”

Shane bares his teeth in anger. “Humans still see dragons as less than people. Like animals. They laugh at our losses, mock our gains, scorn our people, thwart our causes, cool our friends, heat our enemies—and what’s the reason?” 

His voice has gotten louder: not loud enough to fill the saloon, but enough to draw attention. Or, at the very least, people intently  _ not _ paying attention. But as he talks, Clarice recognizes the rhythm that he’s slipped into. It’s a speech that she has read before, and as his chest heaves, she quietly gives the answer that he’s waiting for. “Because you are dragons.”

“Because we are dragons!” He laughs bitterly and leans back in his chair. “And why? Don’t we share the same things? Eyes, hands, senses, affections, passions? Fed with the same food, hurt with the same weapons, subject to the same diseases, healed by the same means, warmed and cooled by the same winter and summer as a human is? If you prick us, do we not bleed? If you tickle us, do we not laugh?”

His voice goes softer, anger giving way to sadness. “If you love us, do we not love in return? If you hurt us, do we not die? And if you wrong us, do we not grieve and long for revenge?”

Idly, Clarice thinks that Shane would make an excellent Shylock. The rest of her is focused intently on Shane, on his heaving chest and slitted pupils, the clear intelligence and passion in him. Her eyes are wide and her heart thuds in her chest in amazement and fondness and something quite like attraction because  _ oh no, literature as protest, my only weakness.  _ She swallows, mouth a little dry in awe of the heart of this man.

Finally, she asks gently, “And what pound of flesh do you ask?”

His response is sharp and quick. “Respect. The respect every person is due.”

There is only so much Clarice can say that doesn’t sound like a platitude, so she doesn’t open her mouth. Finally, Shane sighs bitterly. “It’s not  _ your  _ fault. I’m not angry at you. I’m just angry.”

“Merchant of Venice is cathartic, though,” she replies with a slight smile. 

He chuckles, taking a long drink of beer. “It is.”

She doesn’t reach out to hug him - her own boundaries are too high for that and she’s pretty sure he won’t take it - but she does reach over and gently squeeze his hand on the tankard. His eyes snap to hers in surprise, staring down at her hand, and she rubs a thumb gently over his knuckles. True to her statement, she offers neither pity nor platitudes. His surprised expectation gives way to relief and he squeezes her hand in return. It doesn’t fix his rage and grief, of course - and he vents more of that as the night goes on - but she is there to listen.

* * *

It’s that fall when the entire town goes antsy. Clarice finds sexual desire to be entirely not her taste, so it doesn't bother her, but mating season is in full swing. At least, for most of the town. Shane and Sam are at their wit’s end, and finally, Clarice has to ask why.

“Joja doesn’t give heat leave,” Sebastian tells her as he sets up her laptop. “You know how unmated dragons basically are just at a loss the whole time?”

She nods. “I skimmed that section. Not my thing.”

He chuckles. “Agreed. But it’s like they’re going through a full day while coated in itching powder and having a fever. It’s not right.”

Clarice finds her old Joja manuals at home and prowls through them. She makes a couple of phone calls to her old coworkers at Joja. She gets names. She gets policy numbers. She gets dragon rights cases and lawsuits against Joja. She calls a lawyer friend - Josephine always knows the hookup - and works through the specifics as thoroughly as she used to in her work in the legal division.

And then...she calls Morris’s superiors. It’s hard and she struggles when she has to put her customer service voice on, but after a solid two hours of arguing, it works. She gets legal information, Joja’s official policy on mating season, a write up against Morris, and enough material to bury the man under potential discrimination litigation if he doesn’t comply.

Now, the hard part. The next morning, she feels herself on the edge of a panic attack as she walks to Joja. She had promised herself that she would never walk into one of these places again (although she has already broken that once to give Shane pepper poppers for his birthday), but this is more important. She gathers her courage, steels herself, and walks in to carry hell to Morris’s doorstep.

Sam and Shane, quite frankly, look terrible. Shane looks like he’s barely there, mindlessly moving cans from the box to the shelf, eyes glazed, cheeks red. Sam looks much the same with his sweeping, although he stops frequently to roll his shoulders like he’s itching out of his skin. Clarice’s heart twinges with sympathy and as such, she strides forward to talk to Morris.

“Ah, Miss Rivers. What a surprise to see you here!” Morris is loud and boisterous in his attempt to welcome her, his smile slick, and out of the corner of her eye, Clarice sees Shane whirl around to stare at her. “What might Joja do for you today?”

Clarice says nothing at first, only passing the forms over. The big Joja logo at the top draws Morris’s eye immediately, and Clarice stands at attention, watching Morris’s expression shift from a customer service smile to a ‘just barely keeping it together’ smile. Her expression is plain, but she feels the vindictive smile at the edge of her lips.

“I...see you are well acquainted with Mr. Wilcox,” Morris says through gritted teeth. 

Clarice nods. “He was my superior.” A horrible man, honestly. Not a bit of sympathy in his body. But...he always said that thoroughness was integral in legal endeavors, and Clarice took that as gospel. “It was good catching up with him.”

Morris’s face is going red with repressed anger and embarrassment. Finally, he barks out, “Shane, Sam!”

The two pretend like they haven’t been attentively watching and make their way over. “Yes, Morris?” Sam is clearly the most composed out of the two of them, and so he speaks. Shane isn’t sure whether to keep his eyes on Morris or Clarice. 

“You two have been retroactively given leave for mating season,” Morris says with false cheer. “You will be paid for the time that you were asked to work. You have leave for two more weeks, until the majority of the season has passed, and then you must return to work. Is that clear?”

Shane gapes at Clarice, who keeps her chin up. Sam nods, and elbows Shane until the man nods as well.

“We…” Morris looks at the paper at the portion he is supposed to read, and says through gritted teeth, “We apologize for this disrespect to your rights, and we hope that you will continue to choose Joja in the future.”

With that, Sam frantically grabs Shane and drags him to the break room to get their stuff and go. Clarice gives Morris a nod of goodbye, turns on her heel, and leaves. She sits outside the door for a moment, hyperventilating when Shane and Sam burst through the door.

“Holy  ** _shit_ ** , Clarice!” Sam says. “How on earth did you do that?”

She gathers herself enough to speak, a slight smile on her face. “My coworker made a similar case,” she replies. “The credit is to her.”

“Still. Thank you. I need to go take a cold shower or something, thank you!” Sam bows to her, which makes her chuckle, and the young man books it home as fast as his legs will carry him.

Shane stares at Clarice like he’s seeing Yoba. It makes her blush, and finally, she mutters, “Hath not a dragon dimensions, senses, affections, passions? If a human wrong a dragon, what should be offered to him who suffers? Repentance, correction, and punishment for those who wrong unto him.”

His eyes go wide and his cheeks go red. Finally, he scuffs his foot in the dirt and mutters a ‘thank you’ before running away as fast as he can. Presumably to his own cold shower. She does notice him stop to pick something up on the other side of the bridge, but then he goes back to running, and she goes to the beach to help calm herself down.

* * *

That winter, following the mating season, Shane comes to Clarice’s farm early in the morning. She stands at the door in her pyjamas, coffee in hand, and beckons him in. With the community center built, he is not going to be rushing to work, so she wants to help keep him warm. He steps in awkwardly, and finally, after a moment of silence, he reaches into his pocket and presses something into her hand. There is some force to the action, a half-hearted shove.

Clarice slowly opens her hand to see what has been placed into it. It’s...a pebble. Well, not quite a pebble plucked from the beach. It’s been put through a tumbler and polished until shining. It’s some form of granite, she thinks - granite and black stone that twist together. It’s beautiful, and Clarice has a brief mental image of Shane methodically polishing the stone with a cloth, imagining giving it to her. The thought makes her warm.

And, of course, the significance is not lost on her. She read that section well, on the off chance that someone would offer it to her and she would not be ready. She looks up at Shane, eyes wide. Shane’s expression is fierce and determined, his cheeks red, and it only takes her a moment to realize what it means. 

_ He’s expecting me to say no. He’s expecting rejection, that I’ll make a fool of him somehow.  _

Clarice squeezes the pebble gently and holds up a finger, telling him to wait. She makes her way over to her bedside table, grabs something off it, and walks back over to press it into his hand. Their fingers touch, lingering against each other, and Shane turns his hand over to see...another pebble. It shimmers - mica and quartz, wrapped up in limestone, found in one of the lower levels of the caves. 

Shane stares at her, his mouth open, and she gives him a small smile. Then she recites carefully, “O love, be moderate. Allay thy ecstasy. In measure rein thy joy. Scant this excess. I feel too much thy blessing. Make it less, For fear I surfeit.”

Shane barks out a delighted laugh, the scales on his cheeks growing a little more prominent and spreading across his skin. He looks like he doesn’t believe it, and she gives him a gentle look. With a fragile expression on his face, like he’s waiting for this balloon to pop, he steps closer to her and hesitantly takes her hand, curling them together. Scales spread across his skin, turning fingertips into claws, and those dark eyes stare deeply into hers. She simply smiles up at him.

“I…” He swallows, gathering his words. “You’re mine?”

He sounds like he never expected to have someone, like he never thought he would get the chance to be possessive.

She nods. “And you’re mine.”

He melts, forehead tilting down to touch hers, a happy little sigh escaping him. Never mind possession, he hadn’t expected to  _ belong.  _ He leans forward and drags his nose along her neck, breathing her in. His voice is a growl, but he’s absolutely delighted and in love, and she can hear it in his voice.

“Mate.  _ Mine _ .”

She smiles at him and presses a kiss to his temple.

“Yours.”


	3. Perseus/Harvey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Perseus is used to dragons. He grew up around them. That doesn't stop him from being charmed by them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For all my talk of mating season, I had hoped to keep this fic pretty PG because I am not good at writing smut.
> 
> And then this chapter happened.
> 
> I think I still kept it under control.

Perseus hadn't given the pamphlet more than a cursory read. Dragons lived in Stardew Valley? That should be familiar territory.

Of all the foster parents he'd gone through, two sets had been dragons. The last ones (the ones who had kept him, the ones who had worked out where so much of his anger had come from, who helped him pick a name and paid for every medical bill, who made him feel loved for the first time since he'd entered the system) were dragons. He'd learned a lot from being in their home, by observation and some very necessary reading. Everything in the pamphlets was fairly common knowledge, and it changed nothing about his expectations of Stardew Valley, other than assuring that there would be less bigots that he'd have to punch for making fun of his parents. He closed the pamphlet, shoving it into the pouch on the back of the seat, and put his headphones in. Music thumped into his ears for the rest of the drive as he watched the clouds move by.

God, he hoped he was doing the right thing moving out here.

Mercifully, the mayor didn't ask about his birth family or express anything like condolences. Perseus was grateful. Twenty years hadn't lessened the ache. The man had instead welcomed him to their small community, walking ahead and talking to the air, leaving most of the bags and boxes to Robin and Perseus. The two looked at each other and shrugged.

"How much of the town are dragons?" He asked, taking the bag that carried his hunting rifle and ammunition. 

"Most," Robin answered, "It's easier to list who isn't. Lewis, my family and I, Clint the blacksmith, Linus the hermit in the forest, and George. So...of the twenty-eight in town, nineteen are dragons."

Perseus's eyebrows raised. "Even the doctor?"

"Dr. Harvey is well versed in both human and dragon ailment," Robin told him. "My daughter Maru also works there, so she's his relief during mating season."

Perseus snorts. "Good. Wouldn't do for the town to be out a doctor during that time."

"Especially not then."

As he unpacked, the silohuettes of dragons soared over head and something in him felt a bit at ease. It wouldn’t stop his homesickness, but it...did feel like home. Just a little.

\---

His first doctor’s appointment was prompted by a tree falling the wrong way during…well, felling it. By some miracle, he wasn’t knocked unconscious, nor had he been trapped under the tree, but the smack of wood against his skull made him see stars. And some of the branches definitely cut him, judging by the state of blood and the stickiness in his eyelashes. So he’d staggered to the clinic, barely able to walk in a straight line. Never mind his pride, this was a _serious_ problem. He slumped against the wall, groping for one of the two doorknobs he could see, and stumbled in.

There was a woman behind the counter, with dark hair and skin, who looked up from a book at him with wide eyes.

_Do I look that bad?_

There was a surge of dizziness, and Perseus had to grip onto the wall, his equilibrium completely thrown off balance.

_Probably._

“Harvey!” She called, darting around the counter. “We got a head wound!”

The doors opened and out came a man in a white lab coat. Perseus squinted to try and see more detail, but the action made his head throb even more. He groaned, and as his legs started to give out, the man rushed forward, catching him partway.

“Easy now, we got you,” the man’s voice was soothing as he slid Perseus’s arm around his shoulder, hoisting him upright. “I’m Doctor Harvey, can you tell me what happened?”

It was like the words were coming through sludge, but Perseus managed to get them out, words slurred. “Tree. Thought…out of way.”

“Can you tell me your name?” The woman asked.

“…Perseus.”

“Alright, Perseus, you might have a concussion, but don’t worry, we’ll get you all fixed up.”

They carried him into the back room, gently urging him to keep his eyes open as they got him onto a bed. Luckily, Perseus had made sure his medical records arrived before him – there were important details in there that a doctor needed to know about him and his needs – so they were able to put together a treatment plan relatively quickly. It turned out to be a concussion and Perseus had to stay in the clinic for about a week. He spent most of it in a dark room so the lights didn’t make him want to die, and as he got better, the nurse chatted with him a bit.

The nurse’s name was Maru, Robin’s daughter. She talked circles around him (and he imagined that she would even without the concussion) but she was kind and warm, and she wasn’t condescending. She even gave him some more details about the townsfolk when he asked, letting him know some of the gossip and stories. She also gleefully informed him about the Pride festival in the summer, and he knew he would be there.

Dr. Harvey was also kind and warm, but more in the way that Perseus knew doctors could be. He only came in to check on how Perseus was doing. He asked a couple of questions to fill in Perseus’s medical history and asked him about the farm (and was promptly horrified by how much danger Perseus seemed to get into on a daily basis). Maru was Perseus’s main source of details on the doctor.

“Harvey keeps to himself, pretty much,” she said, sitting in the dimmed light, working on some knitting as Perseus shuffled a deck of cards. “He goes for walks during the day, keeps the clinic, and I think he has a radio upstairs that he uses for something. He’s a good doctor, though, and a good man.”

Even when Perseus got discharged, he didn’t see Harvey. He didn’t even remember the man’s scale colours, or what he thought was a moustache, or anything else, because he had been _concussed. _

But he did remember the hands. They were big and warm with calluses and hidden strength, and they’d touched him with care.

(Perseus isn’t touched starved by any measure, and this may be what’s left of the concussion talking, but he wants to have those hands on him again. And not necessarily in a medical way.)

\---

In the end, he decided to thank Harvey with coffee as soon as he got a keg made. At first, Harvey insisted that it was unnecessary, but the bean soon won along with an earnestness Perseus didn’t know he had. “Come on, Doc,” he drawled, the accent maybe a little thicker than normal, “I know insurance has been covering it, but you’ve been patching me up lots and I wanna repay you. Sides, only other time I get to talk to you is when I’m injured, right?”

Harvey looked a little anxious at that (maybe thinking that Perseus will injure himself to get more time to talk, which _had been a thought, if a bad one_). It made his slit pupils narrow and the dark green scales by his glasses flash darker, spreading a little across his cheekbones and making his eyes look a deeper brown by comparison. After a moment of staring at the mug, Harvey finally took it, adding a little milk to it from his coffee station (Perseus will have to remember that). “Well, then…thank you, Perseus.”

“My pleasure, Harvey.”

They have their morning coffee almost every day that Harvey is open. Harvey even opened early so they get more time to chat, which made Perseus’s heart warm. They talk about the community, the farm, and tell stories. For all the comfort of small towns, Perseus worried about stories getting out (and he didn't trust Harvey enough yet to tell the really personal stories), but he talked a bit about his adoptive parents. The whole dragon parents thing makes Harvey relax a little more around him. And the _stories he could tell…_

“You didn’t!” Harvey laughed, sitting at his desk, coffee in one hand, the other petting Perseus’s dog Rex.

“I did, I swear,” Perseus sat on the edge of the desk, gesturing with his mug. He was still in his farm clothes, dirt on his jeans, black tank top with bits of straw sticking to it, and a bandana tied around his head in a head scarf, bits of auburn hair peeking through. “Thought I could charge in like a video game character, talk them into giving me some. Course, my voice was cracking all the time at that point, so not exactly intimidating. The dealer laughed at me until I left. Hard to explain why I was so bummed out to my mom.”

Harvey laughed further, grinning, and his eyes sparkled. “Well, health wise, I’m glad you failed, but I’m sure you had an adorable pout back then.”

Perseus’s stomach swooped and he clutched at his mug. “Sure did,” he grinned, the drawl a little thicker as he tried to cover up the blushing in his fair skin.

Somehow he made it through the rest of the conversation until Maru came to work. Then he said his goodbyes, went home, and promptly called his mom.

“Hello, dearie!” She crooned. “How are you doing out there?”

_How do I do this without sounding like a teenager again? _“Mom, I think I like a boy.” _Definitely not like that. _

There was a quiet before she said gently, “Oh, sweetie, who is he?”

“He’s the town doctor, Mom. He’s a dragon and we have coffee together all the time and he’s really sweet and smart and even though he’s older than me, he never acts it and-“

She let out a whoop. “Oh, dearie, I’m so happy for you!” There was noise in the background and she leaned away from the phone. “Elsa, Perseus has a crush!”

More noise and scrambling before another voice came on the line. “Tell me everything, Perseus.”

“Hi, Mama,” Perseus grinned a little more, even though he was blushing profusely, and told her the same gushing details.

“Perse baby,” his Mama said warmly, “I know this is big for you. I’d see how it goes. If you really like him, get to know him. Spend more time with him.”

“Maybe give him a pebble.”

“MOM!”

The two laughed and Perseus sighed in the way that all children embarrassed by their parents do.

“At least get to know him, Perse. Then you’ll know for sure.”

\--

Mating season, predictably, hit Pelican Town like a truck. Joja Mart was the only grocery store open (and they forced Shane and Sam to work through the season, which felt a bit like a rights violation), the town air was thick with hormones that smelled like flowers and spice, and it was hard to go anywhere without hearing the faint sounds of couples pairing off or the singles having to work through the season alone.

And then…there was the clinic. The first day of the season, Perseus got his ass beat by a skeleton in the mines and Linus had to carry him into town to get treatment. Maru was the only one in the clinic (the faint sounds in the apartment above them definitely give away what is going on) and she looked swamped. The air in here was ever thicker, with several of the townsfolk waiting for supplies for whatever sex-related injuries they’ve gotten into. Linus set him down on a chair, gently pat his head, and headed back off to the forest (far away from the smell, no small wonder).

“Perseus, are you bleeding?” Maru called from the half-open door.

“A little,” he called back, “but if you get me fixed up, I might be able to help you out.”

“Oh, bless your heart!”

“That’s my line!”

She bandaged up his wounds without any of the usual complaints or questions (which is a pretty clear sign that it’s bad, usually Maru is torn between wanting to know everything about the deep levels of the mine and telling him off for all of the injuries he’s gotten in there), and he strapped a small icepack to his head. “Can I wear a lab coat?” He called. “For the aesthetic?”

“No!” Maru called. “You’re sweaty and filthy, the scent in the air alone is going to be too much for Harvey.”

Right. He took a quick moment to wash his face, hands, and neck with cool water before diving into the appointments. Some wanted suppressants, some needed muscle relaxers for the positions that they’ve gotten into. Perseus focused on triage, working out who just needed a prescription and who needed to see a nurse. It gave him way too much insight into the community, particularly how Mayor Lewis tried to help Marnie through the season and how Leah and Elliot seemed to have an arrangement for this time of year.

It also told him who in the community is interested in him, because despite his best efforts to wash the sweat and smell away, it was still there. Shane came in for suppressants to try and ride the heat out, and he stood at the counter for a few moments, eyes half-glazed, just breathing in through his nose. It took snapping in front of his eyes and nearly shoving him to get him out the door. Haley straight-up asked him to come back to the house with her, Alex was a blushing mess, Emily made a comment that was something between a compliment and a come-on…

And then Harvey came down. 

Maru noticed him first and called out, “Harvey, it’s the first day of the season, you should be in bed!”

Perseus should have ignored him. He really, really should have. But he turned to look anyway.

Harvey was in sweatpants and a t-shirt, hair mussed, barefoot, glasses not quite askew. He walked with a purpose, like a man who thought he should be at work even if he wasn't in the right condition for it. There was sweat on his collar, his slit pupils almost looked around, and he smelled like sex and hormones. The sight hit Perseus in the gut with want - a desperate, hungry want that made him want to march Harvey right back upstairs and pin him to the bed. It took effort to swallow it down, and when he unfroze from handing Evelyn a prescription (his hand had been frozen in mid-air), she smiled at him. “He’ll be able to smell that on you, dear,” she said softly. “Be careful.”

Harvey scanned the room with bleary eyes. There were less people than there were before, thank Yoba, but his eyes locked onto Perseus behind the counter almost immediately. They narrowed with an attempt to focus on him, working out if he’s actually there, and he breathed in through his nose to settle himself. That doesn’t seem to help - Perseus reeked already of sweat, and with a little arousal mixed in...Harvey swayed in place, unable to tear his eyes away. His lips parted, his cheeks flushing and scales spreading across his skin.

Perseus has seen his mothers in mating season enough to know what that face means.

_He knows I want him, and he…wants me?_

_He **wants me.**_

Maru had to shove Harvey up the stairs, putting a chair under the handle to keep him up there when he pressed against the door. She whistled softly as she walked back over to the counter. “I’ve never seen him like that before. I knew he liked you, but _damn._”

Perseus’s cheeks were a dark red for the rest of the day, his ears tuned to any possible sounds from the other side of the doorway or through the floorboards. When he found his way home, he went through his farm chores in a daze and closed the door behind him. No one was around to hear him, no one would look through his windows, but he still drew his curtains and bit his fist to muffle himself when he shoved a hand down his jeans. The calluses on his fingers feel good as he rubs himself, bits growing wet under his touch.

He doesn't need a well thought out fantasy. With all that had happened, all the hormones he'd breathed in, his own crush fueling it, all he needed to do was pictured Harvey’s face. His eyes, his hands, the sheer want in his eyes, every fantasy Perseus has ever wanted from someone that he could trust. He came with a whimper, and again, and again, until he lay on his bed, staring up at the ceiling, every nerve overloaded with pleasure.

_He wants** me.**_

_Well, I might need to do something about that._

\--

Harvey could barely look at him after the mating season. Perseus brought him coffee still, but the conversation seemed stilted. Uncomfortable. And no small wonder – Perseus’s spank bank for the rest of his _life _would include the way that Harvey looked at him, even if this doesn’t work out properly. He was sure that it wouldn't – Perseus was very aware of the mountain of baggage that he pulled behind him, all of the extra work that potential partners would have to do to work around him, the deep fear of people turning away when they realize he was a package with misdirecting wrapping. Never mind whatever Harvey holds back from their conversations. Perseus knew that Harvey is a lonely man, at the very least. He’s said as much, and the looks people give him reinforce that. It won’t work. Part of him thinks that he shouldn’t try.

But...

(Harvey's easy acceptance when he saw Perseus's medical history. His gentle questions. His welcoming of Perseus's family. His accepting of all of Perseus's rough edges, the smiles, the teasing, the way that he had _looked at him..._)

Hope is a treacherous thing. It was a dangerous thing for a man like him to have, but dammit, he would cling to it.

There was another phone call to his Mama who gave him a few good things to say (and mercilessly teased him about coming to the side of dragons in the end). After a week of small talk, he prepared two good cups of coffee and the closest thing to a pastry that he can make – beignets with jam sauce to dip them in – to sweeten the pot. Harvey looked pleasantly surprised when he brings them in, nose twitching at the smell, and hummed with the first taste. “You didn’t say that you were learning to bake.”

“‘Cause this is one I already knew,” Perseus smiled. “My mama taught me when I first moved in with them. Granted I’m not exactly a baker and I’m not good at it, but it’s the closest thing to the taste of home I got.”

Harvey blinked. “And you’re sharing that with me?”

“Of course, Harvey,” Perseus replied, looking the man intently in the eye. “We’re getting along well, ain’t we?”

“Yes, but this seems different than what I have seen you giving others in town.”

“Aw, Doc, you been watching me?” Harvey went crimson, scales shimmering on his cheekbones, and he looked away, visibly backpedalling. Perseus felt fear twist in his gut for just a moment, jumping in before Harvey had a chance to apologize. “I’m teasing, I’m teasing. Attention from a man like you is always a good thing. I’m flattered.”

If anything, the blush got worse, but it feels more like a flush of attraction than embarrassment. Harvey shifted in his chair, fingers gripping the mug a little bit tighter. “The things you say.”

“I’m learning to be brave,” Perseus replied.

“You already are. One of the bravest people I know.”

“I already said you’re flattering me, Harvey.”

Harvey smiled. “Flattery implies that I don’t mean it.”

This was the closest thing to an opening that he’ll get. “I hope you do. I rather like you meaning it. What you say and how you look at me.”

Harvey went still. Painfully so. Perseus felt the lump in his throat and he pressed forward. “Look, I know that it’s been…weird between us since the season passed. But I wanted to say that you don’t need to worry your pretty little head over it at all. I ain’t clutching my pearls over it or fleeing for the hills. If anything, I…”

His words started to fail, but Harvey was on the edge of his seat, waiting for Perseus to finish. He gathers his courage. “…I wanted.” That wasn't what he’d wanted to say, but he’d never exactly been good with words.

Harvey’s eyes went wide. “Wanted?” He whispered, like the word will shatter if spoken too loudly. Perseus nodded. He’d run out of courage. He felt his insecurities rear behind him with a fury in the silence that followed, and his hands clenched around his cup of coffee. Harvey’s fingers tapped his own mug, eyes lost for a moment as he thought. Finally, the doctor spoke. “Do you have time later this week?”

_For you, I’ll make time. _Perseus nods, throat locked up.

“I want to get to know you better, Perseus, before we make any big decisions.”

“I knew you were smart,” he teased in a cracking voice, but he hoped the sincerity leaked through. “I wait with baited breath.”

Harvey took another beignet and smiled at him. It’s small under the moustache…but it looked hopeful.

\--

“Harvey, for the love of Yoba, _you said you were afraid of heights!”_

“I _KNOW!”_

Perseus was not a physically imposing man. Not in the slightest. He had even been called ‘petite’ and ‘cute’, although those words had certainly been met with punches. ‘Compact’ was only _just_ a better descriptor. He had never really been someone who made people feel safe, but Harvey was still wrapped around him, clinging for dear life. The hot air balloon basket swayed with the motion as Perseus pet Harvey’s back soothingly.

(That had been an awkward conversation, asking why a dragon was afraid of heights but Harvey had given as best of an explanation as he could. _“It’s the fear of losing control, I think. The height isn’t so bad, but the height when I’m in a plane and I wouldn’t be able to spread my wings easily…it’s terrifying.”_

Being in a hot air balloon definitely fit in that description.)

“Easy, doc, we’ll be alright,” he crooned softly. “I got you. I got you.”

Harvey’s fingers knotted into Perseus’s shirt as his breathing steadied.

“Why did you wanna do this?” Perseus asked softly.

Harvey swallowed. “Because I didn’t want to let my fear stop me from doing things I wanted. Because I wanted to do things like this with you…and maybe impress you.”

_Oh, sweetheart. _Perseus chuckled softly. “Brave man.”

There was a moment of trembling quiet. “But you’ve got enough courage for both of us, hm?”

Perseus’s laugh was just barely a bark. “Depends on the day, Harvey,” he said softly. “But I try to push through it anyway. Helps when I’ve got backup.”

Harvey slowly let go, hand shifting until his fingers curled in Perseus’s hand. It was everything that Perseus had hoped – not quite as many calluses as he had gained from hard labour, but his fingers were large and warm, almost blanketing his own. It felt good, and Perseus gave it a firm squeeze, lacing their fingers.

“Okay, I’m going to open my eyes and look down…don’t let go?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

They balanced carefully in the basket as Harvey peered over the edge. His fingers dug tightly into the back of Perseus’s hand, but for once in his life, Perseus felt steady enough to anchor them. He smiled as he watched the birds fly by them, the clouds shifting in the sky, and slowly, Harvey’s grip relaxed.

“I think I’ve got it now!” Harvey laughed with joy.

Perseus grinned. “Nicely done.”

He noticed Harvey very obviously not letting go of his hand. His smile grew a bit more at that.

“So…I think we still gotta get to know each other better,” Perseus finally broke the silence. “You saw my medical file, you know some of my baggage, but there are important things I gotta talk to you about before I jump ahead.”

Harvey turned to look at him. “I understand. We should both feel comfortable in this.”

_Thank Yoba for mature men who understand that things don’t just fall together. _

“But I definitely want this, Harvey,” Perseus replied. “Hell, I got a pebble picked out on my shelf for if this goes well.”

In the sunset, Harvey’s scales had a gold tint to them as they trickled across his skin, spreading down his jaw and cheeks. Their other hands linked together, and Harvey raised them to his mouth. He brushed a hairy kiss to the knuckles and Perseus thought he was gonna die.

Then the tension had to break, because he was getting real overwhelmed, real fast. “And if our conversations go well, I want you to rock me like a hurricane, Doc.”

Harvey’s laugh filled the air as they drifted in the sky, and Perseus’s heart _sung_. 

_Yeah…this is feeling like home._


End file.
